Take Me Instead
by 0TheGreenJade0
Summary: Alex had been in the game a long time before he met another real person, but it wasn't the other characters. Now in the clutches of Van Pelt with his new friend, he must survive unimaginable horrors to discover the truth about a vile man more dangerous than they had ever thought possible and escape a nightmare in which one more mistake for either of them results in a permanent end.
1. Chapter 1

((Author's Note: This story is inspired by a myriad of events within the events of the movie Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, including the scene in which Alex mentions not being able to handle half the things that were thrown at him, his intensely protective nature of Bethany, and his offering himself to Van Pelt in place of Bethany, an offer that Van Pelt actually seems to consider. There has to have been more that happened in the time that he was in the video game prior to meeting up with the rest of the characters. WARNING! This story has intense, graphic descriptions of non-consensual male on male action. If this makes you squirm uncomfortably, please leave now. However, if, like me, you enjoy indulging your sadistic nature on beautiful fictional men, feel free to continue forward. Enjoy!))

Alex couldn't determine just how long he had been in the game. It felt like years, but in reality, at least from what he had been able to calculate, it had only been a matter of months. It was difficult to even calculate the passage of time, however, especially with the lack of anything with which to measure time. There were no watches, no calendars, nothing. He had long since lost the ability to determine the number of days that passed based on the day and night cycles, partially because he had been through so many of them in various situations, many of which he had nothing with which to track the cycles, and partially because when the weather changed in Jumanji, there was no way to determine what was day and what was night.

At first, he had been brave. He had gone exploring, attempted to determine where exactly he was and what he needed to do to escape. Waking up in someone else's body had certainly been a shocker, but it had been one he had needed to handle very quickly. Determining that he was in a video game, something that had been achieved thanks to Nigel's addressing him as the character's name, had been a bit more difficult to handle; as he knew that he needed to find a way out. As many video games that he played, there were few that he actually managed to complete, either due to lack of interest or difficulty of the game.

He had no idea exactly how he had managed to make his way into the bazar, but he knew that luck had played no small part in it. The map that Nigel had given him had been blank; so he had had to simply start walking. He had chosen to follow the direction in which Nigel had driven, believing that the guide had to be making his way back to civilization. Amazingly, he had been correct in his assessment; although he had certainly not escaped without facing his share of dangerous animals. Jumanji seemed to house a host of animals similar to those that he knew but much bigger and with much more lethal features and abilities.

The bazar had been his first encounter with who he could only assume were Van Pelt's men. The militaristic group seemed characteristic of being associated with the villain of a video game. After satiating the starvation he had not realized was gripping him until he had heard mention of food, he had noticed a group of men appearing combat-ready intimidating several of the shopkeepers. Apparently, they had noticed him, too. When the shooting had erupted, he had run. Incredibly, around a nearby corner, he had discovered a sewer drain, into which he had climbed and simply held his breath. The men were thankfully just as oblivious as he had expected of henchmen in a video game, and after releasing his breath, he had continued deeper into the empty drain.

He had relied again heavily on luck and possibly partially on his knowledge of video games to navigate through the drain without succumbing to its multiple traps. When he had emerged into the forest, he couldn't say that it had really surprised him, not with everything else that the game had thrown at him up to this point. He had been exceptionally grateful to find the already assembled hut, though, and had quickly set up refuge. Having discovered his weakness of mosquitos when he had discovered his trait display screen on his trek to the bazar, he had hesitantly returned to the bazar and, upon realizing that Van Pelt's men were gone, had retrieved food, citronella candles, and margarita ingredients, margarita-making being a strength he had also discovered from his trait display screen.

That was when things had really become difficult. When he had attempted to venture out again, he had found the transportation shed. Once he had managed to sneak inside, he had found several modes of transportation. Being a pilot, he believed that the game would allow him through based on his piloting skills. So his first choice had been a hot air balloon, believing that it would be the least conspicuous of the options. It, however, had never even lifted off the ground. While he had been attempting to launch it, somehow, Van Pelt's men, who had been guarding the shed, had been alerted to his presence and had entered the shed. They had opened fire without question, and between being trapped in a wicker basket and having no defense of his own, he had immediately succumbed to his wounds. He had respawned in the same general area, but with Van Pelt's men still being inside the shed, he had easily been able to escape back to his hut.

His second attempt had not ended so well. He had found solace in his margaritas when he had returned to his camp, but he had eventually decided to travel back to the shed. The disappearance of a black tally mark from the tattoo on his arm had implied that it was a life count; so he had known that he had to be more careful this time around. After gathering all of his citronella candles and some more he had picked up from the bazar, he had returned to the shed and remained hidden until the guards finally left, a feat he believed had been a total of about three weeks. Once he was sure that he would not risk observation, he had made his way inside and, this time, chosen the airplane. His character being a pilot, he had believed that it was the perfect transportation. It had to be.

He had been wrong. Within minutes, he had been tailed; and after evading what he could, he had finally succumbed to the shots of the fighter jets pursuing him. This time, however, his respawn had not gone unnoticed. Although he could not figure out how a video game had determined where and even _that_ he would respawn, Van Pelt's men had been waiting for him. As soon as he had hit the ground, he had become keenly aware of the myriad of guns cocking and being trained directly on him from a group of Van Pelt's men, slowly encircling him. Without any hope of escape, he had put his hands up and surrendered.

He currently found himself suffering what he could only assume would be the significant consequences of his decision. With only one life left, he had chosen to do whatever it took to survive. They had not immediately killed him; so that was a good indication that he was wanted or needed alive. However, it did little to alleviate his anxiety as to his future in Jumanji. He had been led for some time at gunpoint toward an unknown destination, but he finally saw a campsite forming along the nearby horizon. Their current route implied that that was the final destination.

They arrived at the campsite in a matter of minutes, and he was immediately flanked by two of the men who had been standing behind him. Each one grabbed one of his arms, forcibly led him to a nearby tent, and then threw him inside the front flap. A hand on the back of his jacket collar pulling him up only briefly afforded him the opportunity to observe a woman sitting on a stump on the other end of the tent before he was roughly turned around, his own hands making their way to the fists that dug into the fabric of his clothing, attempting to release himself from the inhuman grip. He found himself face to face with a sinister man who wore a sneer and glared at him with a supernatural glowing green eye. _Leave it to a video game,_ he thought wryly, attempting to quell the rising panic. He knew that this man had to be Van Pelt himself, the man Nigel spoke of as having been corrupted by the jewel. Suddenly, a centipede crawled out of the man's ear and down his neck, pulling an involuntary shudder out of Alex's body. The man seemed pleased with the reaction and pulled Alex even closer, his earthy breath an unpleasant sensation against Alex's face.

"Seaplane," the man ground out with a sneer. Alex craned his neck backward against the face invading his personal space, his hands still attached to the fists ground deeply into his jacket collar in a vain attempt to remove them that had been aborted the moment the man spoke. "Where is the jewel?"

"I don't know!" Alex spat, renewing his escape efforts. If nothing else, he sought to separate himself from the uncomfortable closeness of his own body with the putrid man who currently restrained him. "I don't have it!"

"You're lying." It wasn't a question but rather a statement. Suddenly. Alex found himself thrown hard against the middle of the back wall. Even the man's strength was superhuman. Having already closed his eyes in anticipation of the pain, as Alex groaned and slid to the floor, holding onto his ribs, he realized that he should have expected no less of the game's main villain. "Perhaps you'll reconsider… in time." With that, Van Pelt vanished through the tent flap without a glance backward, his men immediately following.

Alex continued groaning for a moment, his eyes still screwed shut against the pain. He let his body slide sideways to the floor and then rolled onto his back, attempting to escape any level of the pain that assaulted his body. His hand moved to cover his ribs, and he finally opened his eyes, turning his groans into pained gasps and staring at the ceiling to find some kind of distraction. When the pain finally subsided enough for him to quiet and feel comfortable moving again, Alex grit his teeth, rolled onto his stomach, and pushed himself up onto his knees and one arm, the other shielding his ribs from any further damage.

The first thing that he noticed when he lifted his head and attempted to focus his pain-blurred vision around the room was the woman he had first seen still sitting in the same position on the stump. Her curious gaze held his for a mere second before she focused her attention on the portion of the dirt floor that sat in front of her, her body leaned forward heavily, her arms resting on her knees, and her wrists crossed over one another where they met in front of her. She seemed entirely uninterested in him, yet if she was here with him, then, he surmised, she must also be Van Pelt's prisoner. At any rate, she was his best chance at escape at the moment. He slowly forced his body to stand, everything tensing against the pain that the action caused. His physical energy nearly depleted by the time he finally completed the simple task, he placed his free hand against the nearest wall, leaned against it, and ground out, "Hello."

The woman looked up only a moment, a look of boredom still written across her face, before immediately returning her attention to the ground beneath her. "Hi," she replied simply.

Alex surveyed the surroundings. It was an extremely small, simple hut. There was the stump on which the woman was sitting, which seemed to be embedded into the ground; and there were two sleeping cots with simple blankets placed on top, each placed diagonally from one another in exact opposite corners of the tent. Doubling over and resting his free hand on his knee, he decided to try to obtain any information he could about his current situation. "Are you part of the video game, too?" If she was a pre-programmed character, she would only have a pre-programmed set of responses; but the worst that she could do is ignore him entirely.

Instead, the woman slowly turned her head to focus her gaze on the new prisoner. "What?" she asked.

Alex, sighed, dropping his head in defeat. "Nevermind," he retorted, bringing his head back up to start scanning for any chance of escape.

"No, what did you say?" the woman insisted, turning to face him further, emerald green eyes searching his face for something he could not even begin to fathom.

He sighed irritatedly, loathe to waste any time that he had before Van Pelt returned. "I asked if you were part of the game," he reiterated, quickly returning his focus to his attempt to find an escape.

"You're real?"

Alex immediately brought his attention back to the woman when he heard her question. He searched her face, he himself apprehensive at accepting what the question meant. "Yes," he responded slowly.

She immediately jumped up and made her way over to him, her simple long blue dress trailing slightly behind her as she quick-stepped over to him. As soon as she reached him, she wrapped her arm around him and assisting him over to the stump so that he could sit. He saw worry etched in her face when she knelt down next to him, although he maintained his uneasiness. She gingerly lifted his shirt, distracted momentarily by the assessment of his physical condition. However, she still managed to explain the situation. "I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, reaching forward to lightly press against a particularly tender bruise on his ribs and wincing when he hissed in response. "I haven't seen anyone real here in so long that I did not believe it would ever be possible. I stopped getting my hopes up just to protect myself. I didn't mean to offend you." She released his shirt and shifted her weight onto both of her knees, placing her hands on them. "They really did a number on you, didn't they?" she spoke softly, eyes offering sincere sympathy.

Alex winced again as he pulled his arm away from his ribs and placed both hands on his knees. "Yeah," he hissed, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth again. When the pain from changing position passed, he slowly leaned forward, assuming nearly the same position she had had when she had been sitting on the stump and turning to focus his full attention on her. "Who are you?"

"Oh! Duh." She bounced her palm against her forehead. "I'm so sorry. I got caught up. I'm still amazed that you're even real. I can't believe it." She breathed the last statement almost reverently. Shaking her head, she continued. "My name is Lilliana."

Alex eyed her hand warily, but she had extended it very close to his own so that he would not have to exert himself at all. Her smile certainly seemed genuine. Deciding to take his chances, he shook her hand gently. "I'm Alex."

Lilliana's face scrunched up in confusion. "So why did Van Pelt call you Seaplane? That's why I thought you were just another character."

Alex's expression changed to match hers. "I _am_ a character: Seaplane Mcdonough," he stated, brows furrowing. "I picked a character and got sucked into the game. Isn't that how you ended up here?"

Lilliana tilted her head, and her eyebrows furrowed. "No," she replied slowly. "I was simply sucked into the game. I was taking a walk on the beach late one night. I suddenly saw this green light, and then I remember nothing until I ended up in this game. I didn't even know it was a game at first. It took my first death to realize what was going on."

Alex had noticed her wrist when she had spread her arms while discussing how she had ended up here, her three quarter length sleeve easily displaying it. "You only have one life," he breathed.

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, Van Pelt's men have already killed me once. I've really advanced, haven't I?"

Alex allowed himself to join her in a light chuckle, but then another thought struck him. "Once?"

Lilliana grimaced. "When I first arrived, I had a rather unpleasant encounter with the wildlife."

Again, Alex's expression changed to mirror hers. "I was fortunate with that, but they're pretty deadly around here."

After a moment of silence, Lilliana spoke again. "And you?" She nodded her head toward his arm.

Alex nodded and rolled the sleeves of his jacket and his shirt up to reveal the same single horizontal black line. "Same," he sighed, reminded again just how close he was to certain death. A sadness filled his eyes, and he cast them down to the floor first and then toward the wall in front of him, anywhere but hers. "I'm apparently not quite as skilled a pilot as the game made me believe. I was trying to get across a canyon. The first time, my hot air balloon didn't even lift off. The second time, my plane was shot down. When I came back, they were waiting for me. That's how I found myself here." He ended the explanation with a shrug, effectively hiding the terror that he felt in the current situation.

Lilliana remained quiet for a moment but eventually stated, "For what it's worth, although I am sorry you ended up here, I'm glad to have the company."

Alex lifted his head to meet her radiant smile and attempted to muster one of his own, although he knew that it must look much weaker. "Yeah." He dropped his head between his knees but almost immediately brought it back up. "Me, too." The smile that crossed his face this time was much more genuine.

Suddenly, the tent opened again; and both focused their attention on the evil incarnate that strolled through the flap, followed by four goons. Lilliana's expression immediately changed to one of rage, and she sat up on her knees and wrapped a protective arm around Alex, resting the other hand on his chest. If she noticed Alex's trembling, she made no indication; and Alex was ashamed that his own expression betrayed the anxious fear he felt in every fiber of his being. Luckily for him, Lilliana spoke for them both. "What do you want?" she demanded, voice strong and unwavering.

Van Pelt snapped his fingers, and Alex felt the arms leave his body. Alarmed and desperate for the only protection afforded him up to this point, he whirled around and allowed his wide eyes to scan the room. They immediately fell on Lilliana, whose hands were being bound behind her back by the two men who had so violently ripped her away from him. Ignoring his own pain, he stood and reached out for her but was stopped by a hand wrapped around his waist. His body instantly attempted to defend itself, hands scrabbling at the strong arm locked around his waist and legs kicking at empty air just to attempt throw off the hold so that he could escape. All struggles instantly ceased, however, when he felt a long blade pressed to his neck. Chest heaving with exertion, he instantly stilled, his hands still pressed against the arm wrapped around his waist. His eyes immediately settled on Lilliana, who had now been forced to her knees by the two men and was held in place by two hands on each shoulder. All concern transferred to her for only a moment, until the knife was pressed more sharply into his neck, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

"Alex!" The scream came from Lilliana, who was still struggling to shrug off the arms that held her in place. A sharp blow to the back of her head, however, stunned her and would have sent her body reeling forward were it not for her physical restraint.

Alex's heart raced, unsure what to expect. He immediately feared for Lilliana when he saw her hit, but once again, his attention was drawn back to himself when he felt hot breath against his ear. It was Van Pelt. "Have you reconsidered yet?"

The sliminess of the voice almost seemed to crawl inside Alex, and he could not suppress the involuntary shudder. "I told you! I—I don't have it." He silently cursed himself for the unsteadiness of his voice.

Van Pelt laughed in Alex's ear, eliciting another shudder and even an attempt to crane his neck against the voice, an action that only caused the knife to slice deeper into his neck. "I am so glad to hear that. See, I have been working on new ways to obtain the information that I want; and as it seems that our dear girl here has already taken an interest in you, this is going to be even easier than I originally anticipated."

With that statement, Alex felt a nearly imperceptible nod by Van Pelt; and the guards gracelessly moved Lilliana over to the stump, tying off the rope that bound her wrists around the large base, giving her absolutely no room for movement. Alex locked eyes with her when she lifted her head, even as the two men gripped each of his arms and pulled him back against the wall. Van Pelt's arm slithered away from his stomach, but somehow, Alex felt no more comfortable. When Van Pelt blocked his view to Lilliana, he, in fact, felt even more anxious. The malevolent look in Van Pelt's eye and the predatory manner in which he approached Alex made Alex feel more vulnerable than he had in his entire time within the game and caused him to shift uncomfortably.

By the time that Van Pelt finally reached Alex, Alex was trembling fearfully and shrinking back as far as he could into the wall against which he was held, struggling to even attempt to still his rapid heart rate and matching breath. When Van Pelt quickly and confidently brought his knife up to Alex's chest, a wicked smile sprawled across his face, Alex yelped, jumped, and closed his eyes, turning his head away from the inevitable damage. The torture he expected, however, never came. Instead, the knife sliced through the top button of his shirt. Somehow even more alarmed at this action than at the act of causing physical pain, Alex's eyes snapped open; and he focused on the knife blade, fighting even harder to still his exceptionally shallow breathing as the blade continued through each subsequent button of his shirt.

When the last button was sliced, Alex saw Van Pelt's eye glaze over almost appreciatively. Suddenly, the man's fingers were trailing up his stomach. Instinctively, Alex sucked his stomach in, shrinking away from the vile touch. "What—" he swallowed, "what are you doing?"

"So beautiful," Van Pelt murmured, not taking his eyes away from the spot that his fingers had been touching but also not advancing forward to regain contact with the sun-tanned skin of the taut and still shaking stomach.

"Russel!" The despondent scream distracted Van Pelt and, much to Alex's relief, allowed him to relax a bit when Van Pelt turned his attention behind him. The scream had been wrenched from Lilliana's throat. The blood on her wrists indicated just how violently she had been struggling against her bonds, and she had actually managed to make it to an upright position on her knees. The curly red locks of the hair that reached the center of her back hung loosely in her face, but it was the rage in her eyes that most unnerved Alex, even in the situation in which they found themselves presently. "Why are you doing this?' She set her lips firmly, awaiting response.

Van Pelt considered her a moment but then simply chuckled, returning his attention to Alex. The older man pressed his body against the younger, effectively pinning the young man to the wall, and almost gently traced a finger along the jawline of the head that stared at the floor to the side, eliciting a whimper from the boy. "Because," Van Pelt answered, allowing hot breath to trace over Alex's cheek, "I always get what I want."

"Leave him alone!" Lilliana's struggles and irate screams continued, but they were no longer of any consequence.

Alex wriggled beneath Alex's body, attempting somehow to dislodge him; but the man stayed strongly attached. Suddenly, Alex felt lips on his own; as a gentle hand caressed his entire naked torso, reaching beneath both shirt and jacket to trace the small of his back. When Alex screeched in surprise, Van Pelt took the opportunity to force his tongue into the resistant mouth, taking his time to carefully explore every crevice. Alex once again whimpered at the onslaught and suddenly felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He was powerless to stop them from falling in this situation, and they coated his cheeks, accompanied by his own quiet sobbing against the mouth attached to his own.

When Van Pelt finally pulled away for breath, Alex gasped to regain his own but managed between his struggles for air, "Why—why are you doing this?" Another gulp of air. "Please stop." He didn't care that he was begging. He could withstand physical pain, especially since his entry to the Jumanji game. This, however, was not something that he believed he could survive.

Van Pelt only laughed. When he drove his clothed groin into Alex's, he earned a screaming sob. "I told you," he stated, placing his hand on the back of Alex's head and bringing his own mouth close to Alex's ear. "I always get what I want." Releasing the boy and ignoring his short, terrified gasps, Van Pelt coldly repeated his previous statement. "Where is the jewel?"

Alex cried out desperately, "I told you I don't have it!"

Van Pelt brought his mouth close to Alex's ear again, gripping his shoulder firmly. "I don't believe you." With that statement, he reached his hand down between Alex's legs and relished in the strangled sob he received from the boy.

Alex couldn't help his reactions. Van Pelt's hand on his flaccid member, even through clothing, wrenched the most pitiful sound he had ever heard in his entire life from his very own throat. Up until this point, he had believe that he could outlast Van Pelt; but as the calloused hand continued its exploration of his manhood, for the first time, his determination to remain living wavered.

Van Pelt removed his other hand from Alex's shoulder only to wrap it around the lean body and squeeze the buttocks. The action earned him another surprised yelp, a reaction at which he grinned. In response to Van Pelt's snapping his fingers, the men restraining Alex forced him to his knees and finally to his back, their hands restraining his arms the entire time.

Alex started screaming when he felt himself being dragged down to the floor. He did not care about dignity anymore. He simply needed to escape this situation. Lilliana's own screams joined his, yet nothing changed. On his back he felt even more vulnerable, a feeling amplified tenfold when Van Pelt lowered his own body to straddle Alex's hips, effectively rendering his legs useless. With his arms pinned outstretched from his body, Alex felt like a toy displayed for Van Pelt's pleasure and dejectedly realized that he was not far from the truth. Lilliana's objections and spewed obscenities fell to the background of his mind. Time seemed to slow, and Alex became aware only of himself and of the man above him leering down, rubbing dirty hands all over his torso and back, sneaking just below his waistband only to return to their earlier ministrations. Teeth nipped at his neck and chest, light sucking that might otherwise have been enjoyable bringing goosebumps to Alex's flesh. The unexpectedly soft mouth moved down Alex's chest and latched onto one of his nipples, drawing a gasp from the young man. While the tongue began its assault, rough fingers turned their attention to the other nipple: pinching, twisting, flicking, rubbing. The actions provoked a series of hisses and moans from Alex, though he himself was growing further and further from the situation, almost floating above the physical body trapped in this nightmare. All sensations were beginning to fade.

Alex was slammed very quickly back into his body, however, when a hand finally slipped fully beneath his pants. A loud gasp ripped its way out of Alex's throat before he had even had a chance to fully assess the situation, and one look at the grin that spread upon Van Pelt's face told Alex that it had been exactly the reaction for which the man had been looking. Alex realized with mounting desperation that his belt and button and zipper had all been undone, though his pants remained in place around his waist at the moment. Van Pelt had slid himself a bit lower on Alex's body to rest on the boy's thighs and had stretched the rest of his body over Alex's, resting on a forearm placed on the ground next to Alex's face. The hand that Alex felt had slid behind him and down his pants and was now playing with the slit between his cheeks, quickly sliding closer to his most intimate spot.

"No!" Alex breathed, bucking against the weight holding him in place in an effort to escape the invading digit. "No!" This scream was much louder, matching the rising intensity of his horror. His protests, however, went unheeded.

"Alex!" This scream came from somewhere much further than Alex's immediate vicinity and was female, and his attention diverted from his current predicament for only a moment. He had all but forgotten about Lilliana's presence, but when he lifted his head and locked eyes with her, he felt revitalized, if only a little. He knew that he needed to live, if for no other reason than for her. Sweat covered her face, and her chest heaved in exertion from her escape efforts. Blood covered her arms and the ground around her, dripping from chafed wrists. She looked just as bad as he did. Her full attention, however, was devoted to him. The rage in her eyes burned into Van Pelt's back and promised lethal retribution for his actions. Alex had to survive, for her; and he had to try to spare her the pain that he was experiencing.

His attention was forced back to his own body when he heard a strangled cry that he barely recognized as having come from him. One large finger had breached the firm ring of muscle that served as entrance to his virgin canal. It probed against the soft flesh inside and pushed deeper, causing Alex to clench and cry out again. Eyes screwed shut and teeth ground together, Alex squirmed uncomfortably beneath Van Pelt, moving any direction he could to attempt to escape the violating intrusion. Nothing, however, brought relief; and the uncomfortable burn suddenly turned into an entire fire when a second finger joined the intrusion.

His strength faltered, and he could no longer attempt to suppress his pain, even to protect Lilliana. "God, stop! Please stop!" he begged, tears stinging his eyes as he continued his futile struggle.

Van Pelt laughed darkly and brought his head closer to Alex's ear and licking the lobe before speaking. Alex tried to move his head closer to his shoulder to protect at least some part of his body, but even that failed. "Seaplane," Van Pelt breathed, "I have not even started." The threat was true. In his current position, Van Pelt had terrible leverage and was not able to push very far into Alex at all.

Van Pelt decided to change that. Quickly withdrawing his fingers and earning a pained groan as the clenched muscle closed with a wet pop. Van Pelt wasted no time in moving the pants and boxers still resting on Alex's legs and waist down to his ankles, avoiding the surprisingly powerful legs that kicked out in protest. Once Van Pelt was finished, he quickly moved between Alex's legs, stretching them apart to fully expose him. Breathless, he admired the beauty that lay before him: the toned thighs, the generous (although still flaccid) endowment, and the pink and slightly irritated hole just inviting him to enter again.

Alex whimpered. "Don't—don't do this. Just get off me."

Pressing a bruising kiss to Alex's lips, Van Pelt removed his own belt and pushed his pants down to his knees, ignoring the petrified expression that glued itself to Alex's face when he heard the zipper. "There is not a chance of that," Van Pelt explained. Nodding toward Lilliana, he continued, "Short of that fiery redhead over there, you are the most beautiful thing that has walked into Jumanji in some time. I know that you have the jewel. I will make you a trade: your virginity for the jewel." He ground his now unclothed and throbbing erection into Alex's cock.

Alex's breath came in hiccupped sobs, terror overtaking every other sense. He barely comprehended Van Pelt's words but became even more alarmed once they registered. "No!" he exclaimed, head rocking from side to side in despair. It was nearly the only physical movement that he could make. "Please, no! I don't have it! Just stop!"

Van Pelt slid another finger into Alex's hole and waited only a moment before inserting his second, ignoring the strangled sob the pilot emitted and beginning to scissor the hole to stretch it in preparation. "Then you have made your bargain." He smiled wickedly, fighting the strained muscle ring to make room for a much larger intrusion. He didn't want to hurt the boy beyond repair, as he had intention of repeating the violation; but he was growing impatient.

Alex moaned loudly as the fingers slid far deeper into him than they had been before, attempting to stretch his unrelenting hole. He tried to will himself to relax, as the impending attack became more and more inevitable. He wished to avoid as much pain as possible. His body, however, refused to cooperate. His unyielding passage remained tightly wrapped around Van Pelt's fingers, and when Van Pelt forced in a third, Alex released another strangled cry, in more pain than he could ever have imagined possible. Slowly. Van Pelt continued stretching the passage; and much to Alex's mortification, he felt himself loosening ever so slightly.

Van Pelt must have felt it, too. Within moments, Van Pelt's fingers were removed; and the girth of something much bigger was pressing against him, demanding entrance to his body. Alex choked on a protesting yell, but it was of no use. Before he could react, Van Pelt was slowly pressing his considerable member into Alex; and Alex's mouth opened in a wordlessly scream, face scrunched up in excruciating pain. He had thought that he could stand physical pain, but this was far beyond anything he could ever have even considered. White spots danced before his eyes. He wanted so badly to submit to the darkness that loomed over his mind, but it was just out of reach. Finally, he found his voice. "No! Oh, fuck! Please stop! God it hurts! It hurts so much!"

Alex barely acknowledged the renewed strength of Lilliana's screams and struggles. He could not draw his mind from the fiery fullness he felt in his ass. His eyes were once again screwed shut, unable to face the humiliation. Van Pelt groaned against his tightness, and although Alex continued trying to relax, all he managed to do was continually clench his muscle, an act that seemed to have a very positive effect on Van Pelt. Alex sobbed at every thrust, softly muttering his protestations but becoming weaker and more hopeless by the second. Every thrust tore a new piece of his soul away. Alex prayed for nothing more than this attack to be over. He felt a sticky substance within his channel and knew immediately that the torn muscle still providing a fairly strong resistance had given way to the attack and left the weakened channel prey to damage, explaining what he instinctively understood was blood.

Alex attempted to shut down his mind, to return to that earlier ethereal state; but the pain was far too strong. Even attempting to physically resist by moving his body away from the attack intensified it so much more. He had no choice but to lay there and accept the violation, often letting out strangled sobs and moans at particularly painful thrusts. He felt Van Pelt's hands roam his body again, settling on his hips as the man forced his body to respond. Van Pelt had first moved his legs so that his ankles rested on the military leader's shoulders before strong fingers drove painfully into his bony hips, driving his body deeper against Van Pelt's. Alex felt the Van Pelt strike a particularly electric location within his body and screamed. Although the pain well overrode any other sensation, Alex was horrified to discover that it had actually felt pleasurable. He, fortunately, had little time to deliberate the sensation within his mind before Alex's breathing intensified and he began grunting, a sure sign of his impending release. Just as predicted, Van Pelt stiffened above Alex only a moment later before spilling his hot, salty seed inside Alex's tortured passage and pulling out, leaving Alex convulsing and sobbing in pain.

"This has been pleasant, Seaplane," Van Pelt stated in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I hope to experience it again." He snapped his fingers again, and the men released Alex.

Alex could do nothing more than turn onto his side, draw his knees up to his chest, and wrap his arms around them, his quiet sobs refusing to subside.

Van Pelt then made his way over to Lilliana, who had fallen incredibly silent and hung her head to stare at the floor, seemingly in shock. As soon as she was released, however, her head immediately shot up and spat in Van Pelt's face. Van Pelt calmly wiped the saliva away and then, without reaction, backhanded her as hard as he could, sending her sprawling to the floor. After, he stood and strode out of the tent, his men following closely behind him.

Lilliana ignored the pain in her wrists and immediately made her way over to Alex, gingerly pulling his pants up, buttoning the, and redoing his belt. Her initial efforts were met with very weak efforts, which alarmed her; but when hazy brown eyes met her own deeply concerned green orbs, he ceased his struggles and allowed her to redress him as best as she could. After she was finished, although his shirt still hung open, she sat on the floor and pulled him into her lap facing him, protecting his exposed torso.

Alex's initial alarm at the hands that touched him after Van Pelt left immediately deflated when he realized that the touch was that of Lilliana's and that she was tending to him. He allowed her to redress him and then felt her pull him into his lap. Although he initially tensed, he suddenly burst into tears and grabbed the back of her shirt, sobbing into her chest like a child.

Lilliana's heart broke as Alex released the anguish he felt from his attack, but she swallowed down her own sorrow and held him close, rubbing his back and stroking his hair, listening to his gasping sobs slowly grow weaker and weaker, giving way to a steadier breathing rate that indicated he was succumbing to the exhaustion of sleep. His hands, however, remained tangled tightly in her clothing, clinging for dear life. Aware that she would not be moving positions for the night and with concern only for Alex's well-being, Lilliana tightened her protective embrace on Alex and laid her head upon his, eventually falling into an uneasy slumber.


	2. Not Getting Under You

((Author's Note: So this is actually all but writing itself. It is coming out much darker than intended, but I am actually enjoying everything the Muse is giving me. And the best parts of the plot are still to come. I promise that it will actually tie in with the movie, as well! And there may actually be a few cute comfort scenes coming up. Not entirely my style, but I have been fairly horrible to poor Alex. ;) ))

Lilliana awoke from a fitful sleep surprised to find a warm bundle nestled against her body. A sharp pain in her legs alerted her to the significant strain that had been placed on them from being kept in the same position for so long, and she nearly moved to attempt to alleviate the discomfort, an action immediately halted when the events of the past night came crashing back into her mind. Alarmed, she turned her attention to the fragile body she held in her arms and instinctively tightened her embrace. Alex, however, seemed undisturbed by her slight movement, stolen away to an unconscious world that offered him the only reprieve he would see. She almost wished he would stay that way. At least there was a peace wherever his mind was currently roaming that he would not find in the waking world, and Lilliana shuddered to think what fate he would meet when Van Pelt returned.

Light trembling in her arms shattered any hope Lilliana had held for Alex's continued protection within the arms of unconsciousness, and long lashes fluttered open to reveal a confused expression within innocent hazel eyes. "Morning," Alex greeted tersely as he stretched and attempted to sit up, apparently unsure of why he found himself in her lap in the first place. He hissed when he repositioned and dropped himself a little too hard into a seated position on his knees, doubling over in pain and gasping as the memories of the previous day assaulted him, intensifying his shaking and bringing him to the verge of hyperventilation.

"Alex?"

Entirely involuntarily, Alex flinched violently away from the soft hand placed on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, wild eyes tracing it back to its owner. When he realized who it was he had just shunned, his face flushed, mortified; but he didn't move. Instead, he sighed and hung his head. "I'm sorry. It's just—yesterday—I mean…." Unable to face the only comfort he currently had in this world, he simply zipped his coat up, disgusted with the exposure his now permanently open front shirt provided, wrapped his arms around himself, and sat down on the ground, gingerly this time in order to avoid the pain still lingering in his backside. Resting his arms on his drawn up knees and his chin on his arms, he stared sideways toward the hut door. Somehow, this position, with his back to the closest thing the rounded hut had to offer as a corner and his focus on the door, made him feel safer, if only a little.

"I know. It's okay." Lilliana's soft voice floated over to him. She made no effort to approach him.

Alex sighed again and dropped his head between his knees. He knew he wasn't making any sense. But how could he? None of this made any sense. They were stuck in a video game with a madman who by all Alex's knowledge was defying every parameter he expected of a video game villain. He was in the body of a rugged pilot who lived in a hut in the forest and drank margaritas all day, a man who somehow no longer felt so much a stranger to Alex in his own body. Lilliana, however, hadn't even come in as a character. She had simply been sucked in from thin air.

The worst part of everything, however, and the reason that he was having so much trouble articulating much of anything to the woman who had shown him nothing but care and comfort was something that Alex could hardly face himself. There was no way around admitting it, though. He had been raped. He had allowed the most unthinkable nightmare to happen to him. And Lilliana had watched the entire event. The deep concern etched in her every feature tore at his very soul. Surely it had been traumatizing for her to have to witness, but she had refused to stop fighting for him in any way that she could. He had heard her protests throughout the entire ordeal and had been aware that she had never even turned away to save herself the horror of observing it. She had been strong where he could not. How, though, could he face someone who had seen him so brutally violated without the ability to protect or even defend himself? He felt tired and weak, but most of all, he felt ashamed. At least if he had been able to put up any kind of resistance, he may have felt more validated; but instead, all he had been able to do was beg for it all to stop.

He felt broken, possibly beyond repair. The physical pain had long since subsided. Although still present as a dull ache throughout his entire body, particularly at his rear end, it was nowhere near as excruciating as that which he had felt when the attack was actually occurring. The emotional devastation, however, was another matter entirely. He felt filthy in a way that he knew no amount of soap or water could cleanse. The thought that death may be a better option than this still lingered in his mind, but now, he wondered if he were even truly worthy to live. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Lilliana rubbing at her chafed wrists, still raw and now coated with dried blood. His heart sank. She had at least been brave, far braver than he had been or thought that he ever could be. What right did he have trying to survive when he could not even fight for himself? Who was to say that he was not more of a liability than an asset? He had considered himself fairly decently skilled and strategic to have survived this long, but the events of the past day had revealed that with life and death on the line, he froze. He had no actual skills to apply. Flying wasn't going to do them any good while trapped in this hut. Margaritas couldn't be used as a weapon. He had no viable way to handle what he would need to in order to win the game.

He wanted to be angry about it and about what had been done to him already. And a part of him was. A part of him was furious that he was so useless. Not only could he not defend himself, he could not even contribute to defending someone else. It wasn't fair. Why would he be stuck in a game like this without a realistic means of escape? And Van Pelt—his blood boiled at even the thought of the revolting wretch. Alex didn't even have the jewel! He hadn't even seen it since he had entered Jumanji. He could only assume that one of the other characters had it, but he had been here for months and there had not been a single sign of them.

That was exactly why the anger couldn't win. Despair and fear were vying for the position of his strongest emotion. Would he _ever_ find the other characters? More importantly, even if he had a guarantee of finding them, could he even survive until he did? He couldn't escape Van Pelt again. He'd already tried that twice, and here he was again. Any hope of uniting with the other characters would require them to rescue him, but he would only survive as long as Van Pelt believed that he had the jewel. Fear made its entrance at this point. He knew that Van Pelt would be back any minute. He certainly wouldn't leave them alone long, not with his obsession. As terrified as Alex was to face him again, he was even more afraid of what would happen if and when Van Pelt ever found out that Alex was telling the truth about not having the jewel. Well, there was the answer. Death was still a worse option in his mind than was living as Van Pelt's prisoner, but it did not beat it by much.

"So how long have you been in the game?"

Alex had been so caught up in his thoughts that he jumped when he heard the casual question, blinking to refocus his vision on his immediate surroundings and then staring blankly for a moment at the source, attempting to jar his mind back into reality and decipher exactly what he had just heard. Although it took much longer than it should have, he finally forced his body and mind to cooperate long enough to form an appropriate response. After shaking his head and clearing his throat, he made eye contact with Lilliana for the first time since he woke. "Oh! Uh, I'm—I'm not really sure, actually. A couple months, at least." He paused, but a note of bitterness injected itself into the end of his statement. "Enough for two failed escape attempts."

Lilliana nodded. "Seaplane, huh? Pilot?"

It was obvious that she was simply trying to divert his attention from his increasingly self-destructive thought pattern (although how she was aware of it was beyond his comprehension ability at the moment), but he was grateful for the distraction nonetheless. "Yeah," he stated, stretching out his legs in front of him and placing his hands in his lap. He winced slightly at the pain of resting entirely on his rear but managed to push through the moment of pain. "I guess so." He chuckled. "Not a very good one, though."

"Well I doubt you've had much of a chance to try it out." She flashed a joking smile.

Alex's own smile faded. "Enough for two failed escape attempts," he repeated softly, casting his eyes downward. When he lifted them again a moment later, he noticed the look of pain she held on her face, obviously regretting the intended joke that had launched them once again into uncomfortable silence. Feeling embarrassed and inconsiderate, Alex tried to continue the conversation. "So," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "what about you? Have you always been a prisoner?" He offered a shy smile, hoping that perhaps making light of their situation, for whatever small amount of uninterrupted time they had together, might make it somewhat more bearable.

His attempt seemed to work, since Lilliana laughed and focused shining emerald eyes on him. "No. Actually, when I first arrived, I did quite well for myself, aside from losing my first life, of course. It was actually that encounter that cleared things up a significant amount for me, at least as much as can be expected of this backward place. Nigel pretty much solidified what I thought before he dropped me off in the middle of nowhere. My dad is a survivalist back in the real world, and he made it a point the entire time I was growing up to teach me those skills. I wasn't keen on it at the time, but I suppose I should be incredibly thankful now. I was able to build myself shelter and secure my food for quite a while before Van Pelt's men found me. I couldn't outrun motorcycles on foot. When I came back, it was almost as though they were waiting for me. Then they brought me here."

Alex's face scrunched up in thought. "That's strange," he noted. "The same thing happened to me after they shot me down. It's almost like they knew." Another uncomfortable silence settled between the two, but this time, Alex knew the cause and spoke the question they were both considering. "How do you think they knew to wait for us?"

Lilliana's concerned eyes met his own. "As far as I can tell, he is hell-bent on finding this jewel; and he truly believes one of us has it. That's the only reason we are even still alive. They had to have had orders to capture us, but how they knew _when_ to capture us is something that has been concerning me since I first started piecing it together."

Any further conversation was cut short when the hut door swung open, pouring in blinding yellow rays. Alex immediately threw up a hand to cover his eyes and pressed himself as far back into the wall as he could, drawing his knees back up to his chest. He could only hear movement from Lilliana's direction and assumed she had done something similar. The hut allowed tiny streams of the golden rays to filter through, but the sudden onslaught the open door allowed was nearly unbearable.

Alex felt himself lifted roughly lifted to his feet, one man holding each arm, and slammed back against the wall in a painfully familiar position. His eyes were slowly adjusting, but his vision was still blurry as he attempted to focus on the man approaching him, struggling to fight back the fear into which he desperately felt like sinking. He had to turn his head to avoid the direct light. Van Pelt's breath was hot against his neck as the militant leader stalked up to stand mere inches from him. "Are you ready to tell me where to find the jewel yet?" Dirty fingers began slowly dragging the zipper of his jacket down. "Or shall we repeat last night? I wouldn't be displeased with either option." A slimy tongue lapped at the tip of his ear, forcing a shudder through his body. He could no longer suppress the whimper that had been building since Van Pelt had entered.

"Leave him alone!" The scream was accompanied by a sudden removal of the closeness of the body in front of him, but the relief was immediately followed by the sound of a sharp slap.

Alex's eyes had finally adjusted enough to the light that he could lift his head to observe the scene before him. What he saw was Van Pelt angled slightly away from his body, arm raised still in the final stance of a backhand. Lilliana lay on the floor below him, covering her cheek with one hand but glaring furiously at their captor. Within seconds, she sprang back to her feet, standing defiantly before Van Pelt, her cheek sporting an angry red mark. Alex was too shocked to even respond to the situation before him.

"I said leave him alone," Lilliana repeated, voice dangerously low.

Van Pelt laughed. "Ooh, we have a spiteful one here, don't we, boys?"

Alex heard snickering from either side of him and could see the leering gazes coming from the two men without even physically looking at them.

Van Pelt advanced on Lilliana. "Perhaps, then, you'd like to take his place."

Lilliana's defiance immediately deflated the moment she understood Van Pelt's insinuation, and she stepped back as soon as he stepped forward. "Wh—what?"

"I wouldn't mind a change of pace." Van Pelt had backed Lilliana straight into the stump in the middle of the hut, and when her focus on him broke just long enough for her to catch herself as she tripped backward, he took the advantage and sprang forward, pouncing like a lion on the hunt. His eyes mirrored the predatory action. "Perhaps you could be the one to tell me where the jewel is." One hand started snaking its way up the side of her shirt as her breathing rate began to approach dangerous speed.

Finally, Alex found his voice, lurching forward as best he could against the human restraints that held him against the wall. "Wait!" He paused as Van Pelt turned to look at him and swallowed down the lump of terror growing in his throat, refusing to back down this time. "Take me instead, 'kay?"

"No!" The vehement protest came from Lilliana, despite his silent admonition that she remain quiet.

Van Pelt stood and laughed. "Well this is interesting indeed. You would like to take her place." He pointed from Alex to Lilliana. "And you would like to take his place." He pointed again, this time from Alex to Lilliana. Stretching his arms out, palms up, he exclaimed, "There seems to be only one way to settle this!" He crossed his arms, a malevolent expression darkening his features. "You both have to agree."

"Don't touch him," Lilliana ordered.

Van Pelt slowly stalked back over to Alex, reveling in the way the pilot shifted uneasily as he approached. Once he was close enough to the other man, he grabbed Alex's cock roughly through his pants, earning a jump and a high-pitched yelp, a sound that he silenced with his lips, engulfing the younger man's mouth.

"Okay!" Lilliana conceded, putting a hand up and reaching toward the two in a futile gesture of a command to stop. "Okay. You can take me."

"Oh, no," Van Pelt explained, stepping away from Alex. "You both must agree on which one you want. If not, then I suppose I will just have to try both. We'll see who is more forthcoming."

Alex wrestled to still his racing heartbeat and attempted to keep his expression even when he spoke. He could not let Van Pelt get to Lilliana. If this was what it took to be brave, then this is exactly what he would do. This time, he would fight; and he would retain some level of control. His eyes immediately locked onto Lilliana's. "Please, let me do this."

"Alex…."

Alex could see the tears forming in her eyes and suddenly realized just how difficult a decision that this had to be for her, as well, and how hard it was going to be for her to have to watch again. Despite his own fear of what was to come and reluctance to experience such horrific pain again, he knew that it had to be this way. "We need at least one of us uninjured."

He didn't have to explain the rest of the statement. Both Alex and Lilliana understood its significance. Any escape attempt was going to require strength, something that was going to be significantly depleted if they were both injured. It also required concentration, and Alex could personally attest to the psychological damage created by what he was about to experience for a second time. More than anything else, however, there were only two of them. One needed to be the caregiver. Since he had already been injured, it only made sense for him to accept another attack. Lilliana would be of much better use in extending care if she were herself uninjured.

Loathe as Lilliana was to give in to the demand so easily, she saw everything that Alex was trying to convey in his desperately pleading gaze. She swallowed back the tears that threatened to overcome her. She would remain strong, and she would not abandon him. If this was what he truly thought was best, she would stay with him through every step. Biting her lip, she nodded her ascent. "Okay," she responded quietly.

Van Pelt raised an eyebrow. "So easily?" He turned his attention back to Alex and raked his eyes over the youthful body. "Very well then." When Van Pelt snapped his fingers, the two men on either side of Alex wrenched his arms behind his back and bound them at the wrists with coarse rope. Once completed with their task, they quickly moved to restrain each of Lilliana's arms, one of them holding each arm. Van Pelt laughed as he saw concern and anger warring in Alex's eyes. "Don't worry. I am a man of my word. You have chosen, and it will be so."

Alex attempted to control his physical reactions as Van Pelt once again advanced to stand only inches from his body, but he could quickly feel that it would be a losing battle. He felt Van Pelt finish the job of pulling his jacket zipper down and began trembling when Van Pelt's hands rubbed over his chest and stomach. He could not believe that he had willingly submitted to this again, even as he tried to reassure himself that the decision had been made in order to protect Lilliana. He would suffer so that she did not have to. Even so, his stomach churned so much so that he wondered if it had been the right decision. His breathing rate increased exponentially when he felt Van Pelt pushed both his jacket and his shirt off of his shoulders so that both slid down to the bonds at his wrists.

Van Pelt leered in awed admiration, hands still trailing over Alex's body. "You really are exquisite," he breathed.

Alex's eyes shot open when he felt a sudden grip on his throat completely prohibited his access to air and threatened to destroy his windpipe. A strangled gasp was all that escaped from his choked throat when he felt a rough hand slide down the front of his pants and begin alternating fondling his cock and his balls, almost gentle in its touch. He was only barely aware of Lilliana's screams about killing him in the background of his mind. He was beginning to think her concern was valid as he felt the darkness threaten to overcome his vision, and he wondered if Van Pelt had finally come to the end of his usefulness of them.

Just as Alex was about to pass out, the pressure around his neck released, sending him barreling back into consciousness and a massive coughing fit, gasping for breath. He started to double over but received a fist to his stomach when he attempted to do so. He was sure that he would vomit everything, but somehow, it didn't happen. Instead, he was pressed back up against the wall by a strong hand holding him in place by his shoulder. Unable to sink to the floor or double over, he alternated pulling his knees up in an effort to afford his stomach some kind of relief from the coughing fit that was seizing control of his body. Lips crushed against his own, seemingly careless of the coughing spasms, refused him even that tiny luxury.

"Stop! You'll kill him!"

The plea barely registered over the blood rushing in Alex's head. Although he had recovered from the coughing, his breath still came in panting gasps. He was almost grateful when he was forced to his knees and allowed to curl in on himself.

Lilliana fought hard against the men holding her in place, desperate to prevent Van Pelt from killing Alex, an act she became surer and surer he was intending as he continued his attack. She continued struggling even as Van Pelt approached her. "Oh, my dear," he stated, "you have absolutely no right to protest." He grabbed her chin roughly and brought his face close to hers. "You could have taken his place. Just remember that you _agreed_ to this."

Alex felt Van Pelt returning and wished more than anything that he could force his voice to work around the damage to his throat. He knew that he couldn't take another attack like that. Terror gripped him when he felt Van Pelt's hand on the back of his neck, but the sound and feeling of his own pants zipper and button being opened turned his blood to ice. He finally managed to force his body to cooperate as he felt himself being forced forward. "No, no, no!" he croaked. "Please."

Without his hands to support himself, Alex, still on his knees, was forced into dirt, head turned to one side in order to be able to breathe. He felt his pants being pulled down to his knees and balked as he realized that this position prominently displayed his ass, a fact of which Van Pelt made no attempt to hide his admiration through the grunting noises he made. Alex cringed as Van Pelt roughly grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled his head up to face forward. It was the reason that Van Pelt did this, however, that tore at Alex's heart. He was face to face with Lilliana. His cheeks burned brightly. He had thought that the humiliation of being so openly exposed to and used by Van Pelt had been terrible, but having to face Lilliana was more difficult than anything he had had to bear up to that point.

Alex suddenly yelled out in pain as he felt a finger enter him, but he would have taken every ounce of pain he was feeling a hundred times over to have been able to escape the sight of Lilliana falling to her knees in front of him. A sharp tug on his scalp, however, brought him back to his own pain. At the same time, the finger rammed deeply into him, hitting something that sent electric pulsations through his body and warmed his abdomen. It was entirely unlike the pain he had been feeling up to that point, but the war of sensations between the two was nearly unbearable.

Alex knew that Van Pelt must have heard his gasp when the older man had hit that spot within him, because the militant angled his finger to hit that same spot every time. Then he added a second finger, pulling harder on Alex's hair. The increased grip caused an increased arch in Alex's spine, allowing Van Pelt's fingers easier access to the sensational spot. Then, much to Alex's mortification, he felt his cock start to harden. Shocked at his body's betrayal, he tried to wriggle away, escape the sensations in any way that he could; but all that did was increase the pressure on his scalp as well as on that agonizingly pleasurable spot.

Alex's cock had grown humiliatingly firm by the time that Van Pelt finally pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, leaving the boy's body wracked with shudders from the sudden loss of the intense stimulation. Alex knew only too well what the removal of the fingers meant, however. Sure enough, they were immediately replaced by something of a much larger girth, dripping with precum, the only lubricant Alex would be granted. Strangely, Van Pelt lowered Alex's face back to the floor, causing his ass to raise. Without another warning, Van Pelt began to push his way into Alex. This time, however, he advanced with less speed and more care than the day before. The consideration, if it could be called that, still caused Alex to squirm in discomfort; but the moment Van Pelt was fully sheathed, he felt a familiar electric sensation. _Oh no._ Surely Van Pelt was not intending to continue what he had been doing with his fingers. Quiet sobs wracked Alex's body when he realized what was about to happen, just before Van Pelt pulled nearly all the way out and slammed back in again, hitting that spot dead on. The pleasure was almost more intolerable than the pain.

Though Alex kept his reactions this time to a series of pained grunts and shallow breathing, grateful that Van Pelt had placed his face back down on the floor so that he did not have to see the defeated Lilliana watching his humiliation, he could not restrain the startled scream that ripped away when he felt a hand encircle his engorged cock. He heard Van Pelt's sickening laugh from above him and nearly vomited at the insinuation made after. "It seems Seaplane has a few interests of which we were unaware, boys! I just might get used to this." As Van Pelt spoke, he wrapped his fingers tightly around Alex's cock, stroking from base to tip, savoring the way the lean body jumped involuntarily beneath him.

Alex could not help his body's natural reaction, but that knowledge did not stop him from feeling utterly betrayed. He did not enjoy this at all, yet with every one of Van Pelt's thrusts into that sweet spot, timed perfectly with the stroking of his cock, he felt himself drawing closer to release. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks. He had prepared for the physical pain, but never could he have dreamed of having to prepare for this. His cock twitched in need, submitting entirely to Van Pelt's ministrations. As he began to see stars form in his field of vision, he attempted every trick that he had ever been thought to prolong release (in this case, hoping that it stopped it entirely); but nothing worked. Even worse, he found his hips bucking against Van Pelt's hand, searching for sweet release.

Alex should have known that it would not be that easy. As his breathing shallowed and all of his muscles began clenching and spasming, he felt what seemed to be a steel band suddenly wrap itself around the base of his throbbing cock. He let out a strangled cry, partially in frustration and partially in pain, as his hips continued bucking forward; but the pressure did not ease.

"I want you to beg for it." Alex heard the words right next to his ear and flinched away from them. Beg? No. He didn't want this!"

"Never." He whimpered when the protest earned a hard squeeze around the base of his cock.

Van Pelt did not bother responding but instead used his free hand to pull Alex's hips up even further, rearranging his entry so that every thrust hit even more accurately that spot that sent electricity coursing through Alex's body.

Everything was becoming too much for Alex. Blackness stood just out of reach, beckoning to him but unattainable. Every time that he even got close, a hard squeeze around his cock brought him back. Finally, he was nothing more than a screaming, quivering mess on his knees, pulsing red cock begging for release. He was entirely unprepared when Van Pelt's free hand came around to rub the overly sensitive tip of his cock. The scream that stimulation tore from his throat left him surprised that he had a voice at all, but he managed to call out, "Please! Gods, please! Whatever you want, just please stop!"

Alex almost heard Van Pelt smirk. He barely heard the words "good enough" through the next scream extracted from his throat when Van Pelt began rolling the head of his cock between his thumb and forefinger. Finally, the older man released the grip around the base of Alex's cock, and Alex immediately shot his white hot cum all over his own chest, stomach, and the floor at a faster rate than he had ever known possible. He barely noticed Van Pelt releasing into him from above. He also barely noticed Van Pelt cutting his wrists, the pain from his numbed arms being released, or even Van Pelt and his mean leaving the hut. He was more weakened than he had ever felt in his life. His body was wracked with forceful spasms, and his breath came in short gasps. When Van Pelt left, he collapsed onto his side on the floor. The last thing he remembered before passing out was soft hands attempting to redress him and a pair of lips pressed to his forehead.


End file.
